


Sometimes You Just Need to Chill With Your Bro

by Paper_Pluviophile



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cinnamon Roll Papyrus, Comfort/Angst, Good Brother Papyrus, Just Papyrus comforting Sans, My poor babies, Night Terrors, Other, Sad Sans, Sad and Happy, Sans Needs A Hug, These skeletons are giving me feels, skelebros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 08:35:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6045040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paper_Pluviophile/pseuds/Paper_Pluviophile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes his nightmares are bad. Sometimes not. And sometimes Sans just needs somebody to lean on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes You Just Need to Chill With Your Bro

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post/comic~! http://sansybones.tumblr.com/post/134613499418/sans-has-the-occasional-bad-night-but-paps-knows

It had been a bad one. Worse than usual. This time he hadn't been able to keep from screaming and it was a miracle his attacks hadn't gone off either. Cobalt magic pulsed in sync with his ragged pants, nightmares haunting his waking visage. His bones rattled, soul clacking between his ribs while the room swam before his blank eyes. For a second they were devoid of anything.

But, gradually, with the receding tides of surreal memories unraveling into intangible wisps two dots of light washed up in his eye sockets. Magic spindled back, dormant. Bones shivered less violently. Tension eased into tears. Ah. Those would leave stains for a bit, long enough for Papyrus to notice certainly. Papyrus.

His dear brother. Was he safe? Was he alive?

Despite the horrid pit of apprehension eating at his figurative heart Sans was slow to stand, each step cemented with exhaustion that ran deep down into his bone marrow. The wall provided support that he sank against before forcing himself onward. He had to know. His mind was a jumbled mess of nightmares and thoughts of what hadn't yet happened but would eventually. His bleary state didn't help any. Sans _had to know_ though, had to be sure that it was _only a dream_. Or so he hoped.

It took him several minutes to reach the bottom step of the stairs. Sometimes Papyrus chided him for walking at a snail's pace. He often commented that Sans was in fact much like a snail, always so slow and emitting slime. That thought made all the more tears swell.

And then he heard it - a cheerful hum to a tune he recognized immediately. Clattering pots and pans. The bubble of boiling water. Pages of a cookbook skimmed through. Boots against tile floor.

The aroma of charred tomatoes and overcooked noodles never smelled so sweet.

*bro?" Sans voice was small and drowned out by the sounds of the other skeleton cooking. Swallowing past another knot of tears and wretched sobs, only a slight whimper escaping, he repeated himself more loudly with a cough.

"SANS! YOU SLEPT IN AGAIN LAZYBONES! I WAS ABOUT TO ROUSE YOU MYSELF, YOU KNOW. I HAVE SPARRING PRACTICE WITH UNDYNE SOON AND - " Papyrus' mild rant cut short once he noticed the poor state Sans was in. "OH. WELL. ACTUALLY... PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BEST IF OUR MATCH WAS RESCHEDULED. INSTEAD, BROTHER," And here he beamed over at the other like a ray of sunshine, "I THINK WE SHOULD 'HANG OUT' TODAY. HOW DOES THAT SOUND-"

As soon as Papyrus smiled Sans broke. Stumbling over from the doorway to his brother he clung to him with a strangled, choked sound, tremors racking down his spine and through every bone of his body.

He was alive. He was alive and well and safe and, _dammit_ , he was _alive._

Papyrus had not totally expected this, but neither was it too much of a shock. Sans had his bad days, he knew, and though he kept up an excellent facade through laziness and puns even he had a limit. This had happened several times before after all (more than that in fact, but he didn't remember those).

So now he would do what he had always done and would always continue to do; cheer him up.

"COME ON NOW, SANS." He patted the others skull assuredly. It was a way of saying _I'm here_ without words, and was simply comforting. "I KNOW SOMETHING HAS RATTLED YOUR BONES BUT IT IS GOING 'TIBIA' ALRIGHT. I PROMISE!" Hope laced Papyrus' god-awful skeleton pun which Sans always seemed to enjoy.

There was a faint, near inaudible chuckle from the smaller, and in this moment and any other moment much more fragile skeleton. *heh. i know bro."

When Sans had relaxed enough Papyrus lead the elder into the living room, guiding him to the couch which he gratefully sank down on. The furniture was in poor shape - springs and stuffing poked out here and there, innumerable stains splotched the unflattering green colour, the fabric torn in some places - but it provided a solid base for Sans to recline on. He felt steady, easing back on the cushions, the coarse material familiar beneath his phalanges.

_Not a dream._

*dont forget to turn off the stove bro." The mumble was sudden, spoken only out of habit which too was familiar. Familiarity made everything feel alright. Well, better. Not alright but better.

"I ALREADY HAVE. I AM NOT CARELESS, SANS! I WOULDN'T WANT TO BURN THE HOUSE DOWN...AGAIN." Another fond, if costly, memory. At least they'd managed to put out the fire before it got out of hand. Hadn't he made a joke about that then?

By the time Papyrus returned (double checking the stove just in case along with a few other tasks) Sans was already slouched over the armrest, eyes half-lidded and skull resting on his arms. The subtle stain of tears was just barely noticeable on his cheekbones. He seemed...more or less okay. Good. That was progress, as far as Papyrus was concerned. "I HOPE MTT'S SHOW IS ON. I WONDER IF HE'LL HOST A COOKING SHOW TODAY? OR MAYBE EVEN A QUIZ SHOW!" As he rambled on about television and Mettaton he took a seat besides his sibling, tugging a ratty blanket off the back of the couch and tossing it over the both of them.

"WOULD YOU LIKE THE REMOTE SANS? I KNOW THERE IS NOT MUCH TO CHOOSE FROM, BUT PERHAPS ONE OF THOSE WEIRD, SCI-FI THINGS YOU LIKE IS ON!" Sans only shook his head, scooting over slightly to repose against Papyrus. That was much better, now. He felt reassured to know the other was whole and right beside him, instead of dust in the wind.

*nah bro. you can watch whatever." Not like he would pay much attention anyways. Ironically his night terrors exhausted Sans horribly, as if he wasn't enough beforehand.

"VERY WELL THEN, BROTHER! YOU CAN SLEEP ALL YOU WANT, SINCE I KNOW YOU WILL ANYWAYS. IN FACT, TODAY YOU CAN BE AS LAZY AS YOU WANT, NYEH HEH HEH."

Sans didn't need much encouragement. Already nodding off he muttered a quiet, grateful 'thanks'. *heh. you really are the coolest paps. really. thanks...bro..." And the skeleton was out like a light.

Papyrus smiled, more softly than his usual exuberant grin. "SLEEP WELL, BROTHER."

With that he settled back against the couch and picked up the remote. Mettaton was on today, and on a quiz show no less. The day could only improve from here, Papyrus was sure.

So the two brothers relaxed, one snoring though not too obnoxiously, the other smiling and patting his sibling's hand whenever he twitched in his sleep. Content. Happy. Alright.


End file.
